


Nothing Like a Smooth Getaway

by Sholio



Category: Iron Fist (TV)
Genre: Banter, Dungeon, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 09:50:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16658912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sholio/pseuds/Sholio
Summary: ... and this is nothing like a smooth getaway. For my h/c bingo "dungeons" square.





	Nothing Like a Smooth Getaway

Their cell is six paces by eight, which Danny knows because Ward has now paced every single one of those paces at least 300 times.

"This would be a good opportunity to let me teach you to meditate," he tries, not for the first time.

If looks could kill, the look that Ward gives him would have reduced him to a smoking crater in the floor. Fortunately Danny has long since built up a total immunity to Ward's death-glares.

"You know what would be really useful right about now?" Ward says. "The ability to blow through iron bars with chi. That's what would be useful. If only we had someone around who could do that."

"They took my guns. And I don't have the Iron Fist anymore."

"I'm well aware of that," Ward mutters, and to Danny's not-so-veiled relief, flops down on the pile of dirty straw that serves as the cell's only furnishing (other than a hole in the floor, the purpose of which is fairly obvious). When they were first thrown in here, Ward tried to avoid touching anything including the walls, but he seems to have given up.

Danny has no such issues; he's been in much filthier places than this, some in K'un Lun and some while hunting the Hand with Colleen and a few in New York. He doesn't think pointing this out to Ward would be a good idea, though.

Danny really loves Ward and 95% of the time, he has no regrets about inviting Ward to come along with him. However, then there is the other 5% of the time, when he becomes aware that there is definitely such a thing as too much Ward and being locked in a tiny cell with Ward is a good way to get to that point at lightning speed.

"This place is like something out of a movie set," Ward says, looking up at the ceiling, and then he adds suddenly, "How's your face?"

"It's okay." Danny probes at the side of his mouth with his tongue, where it was cut up on the inside of his teeth. His head still hurts viciously. He's not only sitting down because there isn't really room in the cell for two of them to pace, but also because getting up has turned out to be a not-very-good idea. "How's your wrist?"

"Oh, it's wonderful." They don't have anything to immobilize a wrist that's either sprained or broken, so Ward has been keeping his right hand tucked into the front of his shirt, mostly. This is going to put a damper on his ability to use a gun or knife if they manage to get either of their sets of weapons back, but right now that isn't particularly a big problem since they haven't figured out a way to get out of their cell yet, either.

"Colleen will find us," Danny says.

"Mmmm."

At least they aren't in the dark. There's a naked lightbulb dangling from a wire outside their cell, looking out of place and jarringly modern in a narrow, low-ceilinged hallway hacked out of the rock. The uncomfortable thought has crossed Danny's mind that eventually the constant light is going to be its own kind of torture, but he's trying not to dwell on that.

For one thing, thirst is going to become a problem much quicker if their captors don't come back soon.

Ward seems to be having similar thoughts, probably because he's getting thirsty too. "So, do you think they're just planning on leaving us down here, or ...?"

"I don't know, Ward. I don't have any more idea who these guys are than you do."

"Yeah, but you have a lot more experience with these kinds of situations in general --"

"I don't know what you're trying to imply."

"-- so some kind of expert prediction would be appreciated."

"I keep saying I don't know and you keep failing to believe me."

"Fine," Ward mutters, trying to cross his arms and remembering a little too late that he can't currently do that without hurting himself. "Be that way."

"Ward --"

Footsteps in the hallway interrupt them before they can get a proper argument going. Sadly it's not Colleen with a glowing sword; instead it's a rough-looking assortment of the cultists who threw them in here, all of them with glyphs tattooed all over their faces and carrying various weaponry including cudgels, swords, and the odd AK-47.

"So who are you guys again?" Ward asks. 

The leader of the cultists ignores him, focusing instead on Danny. After a moment he turns to Henchman #1, who is unlocking the padlock on their cell with a large iron key. "Bring that one," he says in heavily accented Mandarin, jerking his head toward Danny.

Ward could not possibly have understood that, since at this point he knows about 10 words of Mandarin that Danny's taught him (all of it concerned with things like asking where the bathroom is and whether anyone speaks English), but he scrambles to his feet anyway and interposes himself between the door and Danny. "Yeah, how about we don't do whatever you're gonna do."

"Ward, don't." Danny struggles to his feet with a hand on the wall. The cell sways sickeningly around him, and Ward gives him a look that makes him think he hasn't been doing a great job of hiding how lousy he feels. "Listen," Danny tries in their captors' direction, in Mandarin. "Can we just talk about this? He doesn't know anything. You can let him go."

"On second thought," their leader says thoughtfully, and he snaps out a couple of commands that have Danny lurching forward in pure fury, but he doesn't really have a chance, even in the close confines of the cell: there's a brief flurry of violence and then Ward's down flat on the floor, groaning, with a gun grinding in the back of his skull, and two more goons are holding Danny after cudgeling him a couple of times. 

Danny focuses through the pain bursting in his head and aching ribs, and the taste of blood in his mouth, as the leader rips his shirt open to bare the tattoo on his chest. "Now tell me where you got this," he snarls, "or we shoot that one in the head."

"K'un Lun," Danny says. "I fought a dragon. But it's just a tattoo now, I don't have any -- ugh!"

He reels as he's punched in the stomach, trying to roll with it. The thing is, he _is_ hurt, but not quite as much as they think he is -- or as much as Ward does, apparently, judging from how Ward is now trying to get out from under his captors and is probably going to get himself shot if he keeps it up.

"Ward, stay down," Danny snaps in English. He can't really say much more; he's not entirely sure that they _don't_ understand English. There's got to be a way out of this, for both of them, if they can just play along until they can get an opening.

He really misses the Fist at times like this.

He's just considering the tactical ramifications of throwing himself on top of Ward and possibly getting shot (but Ward wouldn't get shot = a plus!) when there's a lot of commotion just down the hallway and a brilliant flash of white light.

"Oh," Danny says, and settles in to enjoy the rescue. "Yeah, you guys are in trouble. Ward --" switching to English, "stop fighting, Colleen's here."

"Yay," Ward says, facedown on the dirty flagstones.

Colleen's rescue _is_ pretty spectacular. Her glowing sword cuts through stone and other swords and the barrels of guns, and eventually the tattooed guys get the picture, especially when Danny slips his captors and punches a few people, and Ward gets his hands on someone's knife and uses a few techniques that Danny and Colleen have taught him.

They are getting to be a weirdly good team, by this point.

 

***

 

Afterwards, it's just a matter of renting a room, washing off the dungeon smell, and then chilling with a beer (Colleen) and cold non-alcoholic drinks (Danny and Ward). Ward's wrist got bandaged first because Danny insisted that Ward was hurt worse, and although Colleen looked skeptical, she applied some stopgap healing with the Iron Fist (she's getting good at it) and now she's turned her attention to Danny.

"So have you two considered," Colleen begins as she meticulously cleans Danny's scalp wound, and he relaxes into the warm/hot chi-healing feeling and assumes this is headed in a _come back to New York_ kind of direction. But instead she says, "... not pissing off every person you meet."

"They started it," Danny says promptly, at the same time as Ward says, "It was Danny."

"Hey!" Danny protests.

"I guess that answers my question," Colleen sighs, sounding resigned. She lifts her hands off Danny's warm/tingly forehead, sinks down beside Danny's chair, and reaches for her beer.

"Thank you for saving us," Ward says in a subdued-for-Ward kind of tone. "... after Danny got us locked up."

"HEY."

Colleen flops on her back, crooks her arm over her forehead, and tries to ignore them.


End file.
